


night by night (I let you eat me alive)

by ReaperDuckling



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, shameless Sasuke bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaperDuckling/pseuds/ReaperDuckling
Summary: Sakura is a bored housewife, stuck in a loveless marriage. Ino is a closeted lesbian in a marriage of convenience. Whenever the loneliness becomes too much, they fall into bed with each other. Only this time, Ino fears that something is different: in all of the worst, or perhaps all of the best ways.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Yamanaka Ino
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	night by night (I let you eat me alive)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [falloutboiruto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutboiruto/gifts).



Sakura’s got Ino pushed up against a wall, their lips interlocked, her knee grinding into the other woman's groin and spreading the long, silver blonde tresses of her hair out over the pale green wallpaper behind her head. She has one, hot hand pushed up beneath the fabric of her (temporary) lover’s shirt, kneading her breast and fondling her erect nipple until Ino is gasping into her mouth, high on the sensation. The florist’s heart is beating so hard and fast that her entire body seems to be pulsating with it, and for a moment Ino fears that Sakura will notice how weak her touch makes her (all trembling limbs and bleeding heart, overflowing with **want** and _please_ and the kind of desperate, aching pain that comes from loving in secret, but far too close, for way too long). Momentarily overwhelmed by a dread as old as their relationship, Ino grabs a hold onto the tresses of Sakura’s pink hair and pulls back from her touch. The wide eyed, sparkling green eyes meeting her own serves as a reminder that, despite this new, decidedly adult twist to their relationship, they’re still the same, scared little girls beneath the surface, caught up in another one of their competitions. 

And yet, something seems… _different,_ about Sakura tonight. 

They’ve been hooking up for a couple of years now, stealing moments of solitude for themselves whenever the shadows grow too dark and the (peaceful, supposedly) silence of their respective homes dig roots inside their chests. There’s been a haunting sort of loneliness growing in Sakura’s eyes for the past decade, shadows that began to sprout when she’d married Sasuke (Ino remembers tearing her perfectly manicured nails through her hair after the ceremony, confused tears trailing dark mascara-tracks down her face as she agonized over the uncertainty of whom her heart was breaking: the groom or the bride?). The loneliness had matured over the years, twisting the formerly vibrant, colourful young woman’s face into something increasingly pale and hollow with every day turned week turned month turned year that Sasuke spent away from the village. 

It had been that same loneliness that drove the blonde back to her childhood friend's side, and, eventually, after a long night of drinking, into her bed. Or so, at least, Ino had thought, until she’d woken up one morning and found autumn sunlight streaming from the window onto Sakura’s peaceful, sleeping face. Ino’s heart had clenched then, her body going hot-fever-cold with the realization that she’d bring Sakura the ocean for a chance to see her bathing in it, that she’d gather sunlight in a cup for her to drink out of, that she’d weave flowers into the tresses of her hair for the odd chance that those lonely shadows will go away and she’ll smile, warm and true like the looks they’d shared before Sasuke Uchiha entered their lives and brought bitter rivalry with him. Ino had realized that she loves her: fierce enough to rival her devotion to her son, romantically as she’s loved no other, and with a sense of urgent desperation that frightens her. And with that realization came defeat, because this game they’re playing has been handed into the unknowing hands of Sakura (there’s no midnight text or drunken call that Ino can refuse or even attempt to defend against. Sakura’s hit-and-run love has left her adrift in an ocean, dying from thirst) and if she ever finds out that she’s won, she might end it - not out of spite, but out of terrible, gut-wrenching **_mercy_ ** : to protect Ino from her own, woefully unrequited affections _._

Perhaps that’s what Sakura’s strange behavior lately has been all about: Ino must have slipped up somehow, worn her heart too plainly on her sleeve and made the other woman realize that she’s fallen, hard and brutally fast, at her feet. That must be why she’s called on her so often these past weeks, to savor the time they have left together before it’s time to end it. That must be why she’s struggling to meet her eyes now, her hand still cupping Ino’s breast, gently resting it above her beating, bleeding, pitiful heart. 

Slowly, painfully slowly, Sakura raises herself up on her toes to nibble at Ino’s neck, right below her ear. The gentle touch makes a shiver run down the blonde’s spine, a single gasp escaping her trembling lips. She’d painted them lilac earlier, but Sakura has smeared the makeup since, blending Ino’s colours with the shade of her own, dark red lipstick. 

“ _Why_?” she breathes. Ino shivers as the exhale hit the shell of her ear, fear and excitement infusing into a muddled mess in her head. 

“Why what?”   
Sakura pulls back, leaving disappointment in her wake. She looks Ino over like she hasn’t in a long time, calculating and thorough, making the blonde feel vulnerable in the most naked, fragile way - like she’s on display, all of her thoughts and feelings overflowing through the hastily stitched seams holding her together. 

“Why did you marry Sai?” 

“Oh.” 

They’ve never talked about it. 

“Because he’s like me.” Ino breathes, fighting through the terrible, existential fear of being **known** . Surely, Sakura must see how much she loves her? Surely, she must know what these questions really **mean** (a glimpse, if you will, into a battered, hidden part of her soul)? 

“How?”   
“He’s… different. He loves different.” _he doesn’t love_ **_me,_ ** _not in the way that a husband should love his wife._

“He _loves_ different?” Sakura grinds her knee, soft but firm, against Ino’s groin once more, making her gasp and squirm as heat gathers with the humidity in her soaked through underwear. Suddenly there’s something firm, almost possessive in Sakura’s green eyes. The look only makes the blonde more desperate for her: for her lips against her pulsepoint, for a bruise that she’ll have to cover up in the days to follow, for her fingers inside of her cunt. “What’s that supposed to mean? Does he love _better_? Does he make you moan like this, or cry out his name during the nights when you’re not with me? Does he make you cum like I do?” 

For a second, Ino’s mind blanks. 

Then she pulls back, giving her lover an incredulous look. 

“He’s gay, Sakura.”

...  
“Oh.” 

“I thought… thought you knew? You were his teammate, after all. And I’m, well… I’m with you, aren’t I?” 

The other woman blushes as pink as her hair. Ino finds it impossibly endearing, and gives into the temptation of reaching down to give her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. 

“I’m leaving Sasuke.”   
She freezes, inches away from her face. The words came softly, trembling. Ino understands the fear of words manifesting into reality when given air all too intimately. Heart in her throat, wild with treacherous hope, she realizes that she’ll have to rein herself in and tread forward carefully. She releases her grip on her lover’s hair, slowly, and begin to comb through it with her fingers instead, gentle, calm. The pink tresses are impossibly soft in her hands, flowing like silk beneath her touch and smelling faintly like fresh, green apples. Gods, she loves that scent. 

“Oh?”   
“I’m leaving him for **you**... If you’ll have me.” 

Sakura says, defiant almost as she pushes even closer up towards Ino’s face, green eyes sparkling through the halflight of the room. For a moment the blonde is left utterly speechless, the words playing on repeat through her head as her lovers breath ghosts across her lips with each, fast exhale. 

“I- Sakura, oh my-”   
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up, I made everything weird!” The pink-head pulls away from her with a strained smile, sliding out of Ino’s hands like water. She watches her run a hand through her hair where the blonde’s had just been, clearly upset -why would she be upset? “It’s just that I’m so… stupidly fucking in love with you I feel like I’m going crazy with it, and I should have just kept my mouth shut or at least have the decency not to tell you in the middle of foreplay, I’m such an **idiot-**!” 

“I love you too.” Ino says, the confession falling from her tongue as naturally as drawing breath. 

“I- you- you do?” 

“Yes. Sakura, holy shit, yes, of course I do!” She stumbles forward, away from the wall, to cradle her lovers face in her hands. “I thought you knew!” 

“How could I possibly have known that?!” Sakura balks back, her agitation betrayed by the flustered little grin on her face, and seeing it feels like the first rays of sunlight shining through the cracks of a cloud covered sky. Ino traces the line of her lips and laughs, just as flustered, just as frustrated and happy and head over heels in love.   
“I don’t- don’t know! I guess… maybe I’m a bit of an idiot, too?” 

“Yeah, well…” Sakura gathers Ino back into her embrace, running gentle hands over her arms. “You’re _my_ idiot.” 

“I am,” Ino breathes, her eyes flickering between her lovers magnetic, heated gaze and her garnet-lilac lips. Sakura darts her tongue out for a second, wetting her mouth, and it takes all of the blonde’s willpower not to dive down for a kiss. “I always have been. Saku-” 

Whatever words of praise, promises of devotion or confessions of undying love Ino would have uttered next are drowned out, instantly, by the press of Sakura’s lips against her own. There are too many **words** , there always has been between them, and in this state of unmoored happiness the blonde fears that she won’t be able to rein them in. She wants to paint Sakura’s skin with compliments until they’re ingrained in her like a tattoo, wants to breathe life and colour wherever loneliness has made a nest inside of her. She wants to tell her that she loves her, in thousands of languages, in thousands of ways. She wants to fuck her, and to be fucked by her, right this instant. 

Luckily, Sakura seems to share the sentiment. 

“I need you to stop talking and start undressing for me.” She says, domineering and possessive in a way that makes heat pool between Ino’s thighs and a purr escape her lips.   
“Yes, _doctor_.” 

Sakura smirks, sitting back down on the bed to observe as her lover unbuttons her shirt. She tosses it to the floor before sliding out of her skirt, watching the way that the pink-heads green eyes go wide with no small amount of satisfaction. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Sakura says, and the breathless, adoring way that it slips out of her surprises Ino enough to make her blush. 

She’s on her in a second, straddling her lover's lap and, gently, pulling her head back by the hair to look at her. She cups her cheek, staring deep enough into her apple green eyes to get helplessly, hopelessly lost in them. 

“You’re actually serious about this, aren’t you, Sakura?” She whispers, thinking about this pointless battle that they’ve been fighting for the past twenty years, about all the time she’d wasted loving in secret until she’d felt like dying from it, about leaving it all behind to create something new and thoroughly _them_ . “About divorcing him? About… about us _?_ ”   
“I am.” 

“Wow. Wow, that’s… that’s _so gay,_ Sakura.”   
“Oh, shut up!” She laughs, wrestling Ino into the sheets while the blonde shrieks and giggles and digs her nails into her partner's skin, moaning as the pink-head slips one of her breasts into her mouth. Sakura swirls her tongue, expertly, around the nipple, and through the haze of lust in her head Ino finds herself thinking that _Sakura is wearing far too many clothes,_ and _it’s decidedly_ **_unfair._ **

“Saku- Sakura.” she whines, releasing her grip on her lover’s hair in order to slide them into the warmth beneath her pants, teasing the soft skin of her inner thigh and around the line of her panties. Meanwhile, Sakura’s hands are roaming Ino’s naked back and ass, massaging little circles into the skin and squeezing the soft flesh. When the blonde rubs a slow, careful fingertip against her clothed clit, Sakura releases her breast with a gasp and, quick as a viper, pushes a finger of her own into Ino’s soaking wet cunt. Ino’s body thrashes, instinctively, against the sudden intrusion, her mind going blank for a brief second - but Gods does it feel _good,_ good enough to make her throw her head back and moan, good enough to make her hips rock against the solid warmth of her lover’s finger, that’s rubbing and moving _just right_ inside of her.   
Sakura’s thumb is caressing small circles around Ino’s clit, making the walls of her cunt clench around her finger as pleasure runs through her veins. She’s approaching orgasm fast, pressed into the mattress of the bed with her long hair a silver blonde halo around her head - and suddenly it’s all too much, the intimacy, the pleasure, the divorce and the confessions and what are they going to do now?! Is she going to leave Sai? What will their families say? What will their _children_ say?! 

“Ino? Ino, are you alright?” Sakura asks, pulling the blonde out of her inner turmoil. She’s pulled her hands back to herself, careful not to touch, and Ino can feel the pounding between her legs like a brand of shame. She hadn’t been able to orgasm. Why couldn’t she just have orgasmed?! 

“I’m sorry,” Ino chokes out, tears threatening to spill out of the corner of her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened.”   
“Ino, it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for this!” Sakura reassures her, before reaching down to help her sit up on the bed. “If you ever, at any point, don’t feel like having sex any more, I want you to tell me.” 

“That’s not it! Not really, I just… it’s getting so _real._ This. **Us** . I guess… for a minute, I got scared.”   
“I… Ino, I’m not going to lie to you: I’m really scared, too.”   
“You are?”   
“Yeah! Why do you think I’m still wearing clothes?!” Sakura laughs, self-conscious, and gestures towards her (frustratingly) clothed body. 

Looking into her lover’s beautiful green eyes, Ino is hit by the sudden, grounding realization that everything is going to be alright. As long as they’re together, she **knows** that they’re going to be alright, even when they’re scared. 

“Sakura,” she says, eyeing the other woman with a growing hunger. 

“Yes?”   
“I want to undress and eat you out. I want to put my mouth on that delicious pink pussy of yours and lick your clit until you cum, screaming my name. I want to fuck you all night long. Would that be okay with you?”   
“I… yes. Yes, oh, fuck, Ino, _please-_ ” 

And so Ino crosses the distance between them once more, as they always have done, as they’ll continue to do for the rest of their shared lives, and fucks Sakura all night long. 

**Author's Note:**

> God jul, Anna! <33


End file.
